Prayer for Amanda
by Thewatcherobserves
Summary: How do you grieve the silence of 6 billion voices? Spock learns with Uhura's help.


**Prayer for Amanda**

**Author's Note:**_ The question of grief in Vulcan society post-apocalypse has been on my mind. In most sci-fi/fantasy, their is no more intimate connection than telepathy. What does the death of 6 billion telepaths feel like? How do survivors process the sudden and permanent silence? This short treatise eavesdrops on what Uhura teaches Spock about grief._

_Feedback appreciated; this one wrote itself late one night._

* * *

Sarek's presence on board stifled any response from Spock; Amanda's death at his fingertips entered the logic machine he'd been trained to use and allowed him to continue behaving as if what happened had been the unfortunate but unavoidable consequence of Nero's actions.

That Kirk had been able to elicit an emotional and violent response from him so soon after Amanda Grayson's death only served as proof - in Spock's mind - that he had not sufficiently applied the reasoning he'd been trained from youth to use as a control for his aberrant human DNA and the "disability" it inflicted. Nevermind that Spock, as Sarek's representative, attended nearly every funeral and nearly every memorial to the Vulcan dead on every planet or that he counted his mother among them.

It took the death of Kirk in the Warp Drive Room to send Spock over the edge. Despite Kirk's miraculous recovery, thanks to Khan's regenerative blood plasma, Spock experienced one death too many for his Vulcan logic to make sense of.

The symptoms were not overt, at first. A short answer here, an acerbic phrase there. Time, however, inexorably escalated his moodiness and suppressed anger. The satisfaction gained from returning to the Enterprise could no longer act as a salve for what ailed him.

Neither fully Vulcan nor fully human in emotional IQ, Spock lacked the ability to grieve.

The tipping point came on a day when everything seemed, in fact, routine. Routine mission goals in a routine part of the quadrant performing routine reconnaissance drove the bridge behaviors. Spock, at the con, gave orders to bring the ship to a specific heading. The Enterprise sat in a plasma wave which caused "floating" engine movements. As the ship skidded slightly, Spock chastised Sulu for inaccurate steering - a charge unsubstantiated given the flux moving through the ram scoops. Chekov's attempts to assist drew a vicious verbal attack accompanied by an accusation of incompetence. Unused to such treatment, the 17 year old turned back to his console holding back tears. Uhura looked on, mortified by Spock's behavior.

When she called shift change, Pavel made it a point to select a bridge exit nowhere near Spock's exit choice. Uhura followed Chekov.

Pavel moved quickly through the corridors, seemingly working off his frustration by taking the long way home and avoiding the turbolift lest he run into Spock. Uhura couldn't afford to lose him; Spock's unwarranted rebuke might send Chekov someplace other than his quarters and she'd never locate him. Fortunately the young ensign wound his way towards home and she arrived barely minutes after him.

Chekov did not answer her initial request. She remained patient and persistent; her decision paid off. He opened the doors and allowed her entry. She'd never been in his quarters before. One look told her how really young and really far from home he was. She came directly to him.

"Pavel, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. Spock's not himself right now."

Sniffling from Spock's attack, he nodded his head in acknowledgement of her apology. It took a few moments for him to regain his composure and his manners enough to offer her a seat. She sat and faced him, observing whether he had really recovered.

"Thank you, lootenent. I understand vit Commander Spock. My mat vas the same vay vhen my Da died." he told her in heavily accented standard.

"How did you cope, Pavel? I don't know how to help Spock."

The young genius thought about it for a bit before responding.

"'Prayer'. Vhen vee ver home I vould play it for her. It helped her grieve for Da." He stood and, rummaging in an unpacked box of stuff from his Academy room, handed her a storage stick.

"Is the only von on dere. It plays about 25 minutes. It helps; at least it did vor my mat."

She stood, not wanting to wear out her welcome. Stepping towards him she gently kissed his cheek in a final gesture of apology in Spock's behalf. It worked; Pavel blushed, letting a shy smile escape in the process.

* * *

Uncertainty dogged her on how her plan would play out.

In the meantime, she combed through his possessions and the Vulcan Family Archive for any information concerning Amanda Grayson. In desperation she put a message through to the Lizzy Grayson, Nana Lizzy, describing her concerns and making a request. Big Rob and Nana Lizzy were gracious, as always, in response, providing all that she asked for and more.

Working in her own quarters away from Spock, she completed the project and waited for the appropriate time.

Their lovemaking during this period took on a desolate quality. Spock, always a patient and thoughtful partner, became rushed and inattentive. She attributed this to his purpose in sexual congress with her; without it, he couldn't sleep at all.

So she kept her own counsel and gave him what respite her body could provide him.

* * *

Spock's worst day on the bridge flipped the switch; she had been watching - this was the day. Kirk's eye contact confirmed the moment and he had her relieved from the bridge early as planned, to Spock's irritation. With Kirk's approval, Scotty had keyed her voice print to Spock's door to ensure she could enter before him. Cooking feverishly she prepared a light smorgasbord of his favorite items and changed into casual attire stored in his quarters for this purpose. Pavel's disk had been loaded into the computer days ago in anticipation.

He roared into his quarters seething from perceived sleights she could not glean in his maddened thoughts. She ignored the anger and served his plate to him where he flopped on the couch. Careful to attend his every need to perfection, he was soon fed and watered. Sitting quietly next to him, she took out her project.

The book measured 18"x18" square. In its pages she had carefully mounted pictures of Spock and his mother. The Graysons sent ample photos of Spock and Amanda during vacations, during visits to Earth, celebrating milestones with family. She did not show them to him as much as she slowly and carefully reviewed the book herself.

She knew without looking that he saw them as well.

Seeking sleep, he rose without words and entered the bedroom, awaiting what had become ritual each evening.

This evening she changed their routine. Returning the scrap book to his central table, she rose and, walking directly to him, she placed both hands on his temples to sooth his hurt just enough to get him to the bed.

Coaxing and cajoling, she got them both in the bed on top of the sheets. To her relief, he let her hold him without any move towards sex. The photos worked. When he settled, she cued Pavel's disk.

The strains of a solo cello could be heard playing Diamond's _Prayer for the Dead_.

_Healing, Redemption, Forgiveness, Atonement "_וּרְפוּאָה וּגְאֻלָּה וּסְלִיחָה וְכַפָּרָה,_"_

_Protect her from the torment of the grave ..."_حماية له من عذاب القبر"

For the first time since Amanda Grayson's death and the death of his planet, Spock grieved.

Uhura held his shaking body.

He wept the entire night.


End file.
